This Ruined Puzzle
by skyepatched
Summary: Plans are made to keep everything on track, to know where you're going next and how you're going to get there. However sometimes plans change. Sometimes hearts change. HeYa story.
1. The Brilliant Dance

**AN: I of course do not own any of the people. I have one dog and he is enough responsibility, I do not want any people. This is completely fictional in every way possible. I'm sure Taylor is actually a really sweet guy, or the cast would of beat him up by now. He's just not for story purposes. This is my first story to post anywhere so criticism is highly welcomed.**

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><p><strong><span>The Brilliant Dance<span>**

Darkness over falls the expanse of the apartment complex; Moonlight bouncing from brick covered walls casting eerie shadows upon the sand paper rough side walk. To any one standing in front of the vast building one would assume everyone was peacefully dreaming, and would remain so until the sun braved a peak signaling yet another day of work, school, and play. However if stood close enough to the bottom third doors in the complete silence faint booming voices could be heard from outside the moonlit walls.

Heathers head was pumping; a flush of anger tinted her normally pale cheeks, while her eyes held spinning agitation at every other word from her boyfriend, Taylor, that entered her ear. The half assed argument started once Heather claimed she would be home late the next day due to a dance rehearsal for the show. Frustration coiled tightly within her, she willed with all her might for Taylor to understand this was her job, something she enjoyed, something she put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears towards. While over the past few months of his senior year at college empty promises were thrown out of her mouth like word vomit. Words of reassurance that work would never conflict with their relationship. Heather knew the promise would never come true if she continued her career, she even contemplated quitting her dancing and acting career after Glee to make Taylor happy. She hoped that it would never come to that, that he would never make her choose between him and something that's been a solace for her ever since the tender age of fourteen when she learned much too young how real, and utterly ugly life could be.

"You're never home! You're never off, and when you are you spend all of your time with them. I mean God, don't you see them enough as it is. What about me, Heather?" The deep whinny voice cut her avalanche of thoughts short. Her frustrated blue eyes met his, seeing the anger swirling around his dilated pupils.

"Taylor, you know its not like that. I have been working this job for years, you should know by now how it works" her soft voice rand to him trying to calm his frazzled nerves.

"I know how it works Heather." His voice bites causing Heather to slightly flinch.

"The part that pisses me off; I mean really irks me, is that when you are off your hanging out with them!"

"They're my friends Taylor!" Anger beginning to tint her voice.

"Yeah" he chuckles bitterly "friends you see fourteen hours a day. Friends you get to dance with." His glance menacing, his pupils dilating more while he takes a shaky breath before continuing. "Friends you make out with" he finishes with a tone that shows his blood is simmering below his skin, heating to a boiling point.

Heathers exasperated sigh rings out. She is tired of this jealousy "Taylor, it is part of the show you know that. Why must you continuously bring it up?"

"Bring it up!" His voice booms, echoing against the flimsy apartment walls, "It's not really something I have to bring up. I mean my girlfriends a whore on National Television. I'm real proud." Sarcasm lacing ever anger bitten word, clinging and growing like a flame on dry hay.

The pink tinge on Heathers cheek flush blood red spreading up to the tips of her ears, "It's a character Taylor" her tongue dances around her mouth annunciating the word character like she was saying it to a five year old who didn't know the meaning of the combined letters.

"Well you seem to enjoy your character", he rings back with the same annunciation. "I'm sure your father would be proud to see his little girl play a high school slut! Boys and girls alike, huh, Heather?"

Before she could comprehend what she was doing her hand was moving through the air, fingers spread as so not to catch any wind that would potentially slow it down. Flat palm met his face causing the clapping slap sound to resonate; his head pulsed to the side with the force. Tingles ran up Heathers fingers and into her arm. Before another word was said Taylor's head snapped back. Pupils so large his eyes looked as black as her leather clad sofa, before a thought could bounce in her head her face was met with the back of his hand. Pain spread throughout her head, her already blood red cheek took on a tinge of purple almost immediately. Eyes watered, effetely dropping a salty tear down the now inflamed cheek.

"Get. Out." She gritted through clenched teeth. Her mind raced, in the years they had been together he never showed an ounce of physical violence. Whether it be due to the distance she couldn't be sure, but looking in his eyes now frightened her. She could see the gears in his head spinning full speed, like a caged pit bull he didn't know what direction he wanted this to go.

Suddenly his eyes shift, every thing goes quite and still just like the moment before a tornado strikes. He takes one menacing stride forward, and Heather takes one back. This repeats over three times, causing the flittering couple to do a tango until her back hits the smooth drywall of the room. Her eyes glance nervously from side to side while her hand slides up to Taylor's chest holding him at a distance to keep him from coming closer.

Taylor's fingers glide up the wall pressed tightly beside her head over her shoulder trapping her like a cage. Fingers from both hands tremble; one in rage, and the other in fear, the same vibrations yet the causes as different as night and day, water and land. Taylor shakes his head, teeth grit, almost like fighting the feeling growing within him. The dark feeling creates an aura around him. A stench of boiling blood.

Heathers trembling become shakes as an icy hand of fear grips her heart, she would like to think he would never hurt her but she is unsure, and when Heather is unsure she runs, its what brought her to L. A. With grace only a dancer could obtain she twist unfittingly fleeing to the opposite of his jail like arm. Her feet go to move in the direction of the door but before any movement forward can happen a hand grasp the sleeve of her shirt, putting her off balance. The wall, floor, and ceiling spin in her vision as she went down a glimpse of the coffee table catches her eye before a intense pain throbs along her eye brow. The room suddenly swims, vision going in and out of focus, the pounding in her head sounds like bullets firing out of a gun. Every thump of her heart causes a shell to run through the barrel in her head. A warm liquid begins to run down her face while a copper scent fills her nose. Her trembling hand reaches up to brush against her brow pulling it back to be met with the sight of her hand coated in her own shed blood.

"Please leave", her voice pleads, tears thick in her voice. Her vision cast up to Taylor his face slightly pale and his once tensed shoulders slumped. Guilt and regret filled his eyes and a tint of something Heather could not quite place.

"Heather, God, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." His voice trembled possibly with unshed tears as well. He stepped towards her with his arms out stretched. Heather scooted backwards; his arms fell like jelly to his sides.

"Please. Let me help you", he whines.

"Please", she slurs again.

"Just leave." He looks at her defeated and scared, however slowly walks to the door, the locks click out of the door jam while he opens it. His body walks out while his head stays in.

"Call me later. Please. I'm sorry." One last apology uttered while his head catches up with his body outside the door and he returns the door to its shut position. Heathers head looks around pitifully swaying from one direction to the other, the colors much more vibrant than she is use to, her head dips again almost doing its own dance to the music that is the thud of her heart. Nausea streaks through her like a lightning bold, before she can even comprehend enough to try and get up to make her way towards the bathroom her head sways to the right and she empties the contents of her stomach onto the apartment floor.

She sits back up with a strangled sigh, blood dribbling down her face, making a bee line to her chin before dropping aimlessly to the floor. She sees her cell phone sitting on top of the object that has caused her this pain. Her nimble fingers reach for it grasping it and puling it into her chest lika child grasping their teddy bear after a impossible nightmare. Black dots dance around her vision as she scrolls through to find the name that she is searching for, the person she is needing right now.

Five rings later and she almost gives up before she hears the groggy "Hello". No doubt she has woke her up.

"Naymm", the 'a' lost to the slur of her voice from the fog in her head.

"Heather?" The voice rings out urgent, Heather should of known by now Naya could tell when something is seriously wrong just y how she says her name. She tries to smile at this thought but the muscles used to do so pull at her bruised cheek, and busted eyebrow. She ends up gritting out a grimace along with a pained whimper.

"Heather! What's going on? Are you alright? Talk to me?" She could tell by the panicked spew of questions that Naya was worried. She tried to reassure her that she was fine she just needed some help but for some reason the sentence got lost in the wreck happening inside her head and all she got out was a gurgling sound then the word "help" followed by more painful whimpers. She could feel tears mingling with her blood on the side of her face. The taste of copper and salt mix would not be a taste she would soon forget.

"Heather. Heather!" Naya's yelling brought her out of her thoughts reminding her the frightened girl was on the other line. She tried to force more words as her head did the lindy hop to the now familiar beat.

"Please", was all that passed her pale lips, uttered in a barely there whisper. The emotional and now physical roller coaster she had been on was wearing her thin. Her eyes begin to droop with pent up exhaustion.

"I'm on my way Heather. You hear me? I'm on my way. You're home right?" Heather was able to weasel out a 'yes'. Thankful to her brain for working in the time she needed it most, now with the knowledge that help was on the way she let her head fall to the cushions of the black leather sofa behind her, and her eyelids droop close while darkness over came her.


	2. Little Bombs

**AN: I of course do not own any of the people. Thank you for the reviews! Not 100% sure exactly what I want the final result of this story to be, but it's not intended to be an abuse story. Unfortunately it just needed the rocky beginning to blossom into what I later want it to be. I'm glad you all enjoy it though and I look forward to your feedback and criticisms. I also apologize in advanced for the slowness of the story. I really like the build up though, I don't want any feelings to be left out and make the story feel rushed, and to make up for the slowness of it I will attempt to update every few days so hopefully that makes it move a little quicker.**

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><p><strong><span>Little Bombs<span>**

Tiny explosions sounded through Heathers skull like the battle field of a war. Tiny flickers of lights danced around her eyes like a disco ball spun from the roof of the palpable bone underneath her silk scalp. The booms grew louder, and more persistent, becoming much more endearing than tiny explosions and leaning more towards front line tanks. Echoing booms rattled against the beat of her heart still ringing through her head in a now recognizable beat. However there was a different sound that she wasn't use to, a soft voice, which through the smog in her mind she couldn't quite place but the familiarity of it soothed the fear she felt from being in a battle with her own body.

"Heather!" the voice was urgent, ringing in her ears, buzzing through her cranium like a furious bee that returned home to a wrecked honey comb he once called home. The jingle she next heard snapped her out of her reservoir and slowly brought her back to the land of the living where artillery shells didn't exist in her uptown apartment. She soon placed the sounds of keys urgently turning in the locks and a low moan escaped her lips as the pain flared up again against her head, the warm ooze of her blood still present on her face and neck.

"Oh my God, Heather," heavy thuds of feet raced toward her. Her eyes cracked opened, and a blinding light made her hastily shut them tight again. The speed of it caused her to pull at her split eyebrow, pulling the busted skin to a painful new height. Gurgled moans escaped her mouth at the pain. She rapidly blinked her eyes trying to focus on the person in front of her.

"Heather, can you hear me. Sweetie, look at me." The voice instantly stilled her rapid beating heart, which in turn muted the pounding music in her head.

Her eyes opened up warily this time aware of the blinding light and the pull of her face. The silhouette of Naya slowly coming into focus, she could see the worry lines of Naya's forehead scrunching her face up. If it weren't for the pain surging through every part of her face she would have smiled at how adorable Naya looked with concern etched on hers. However when her eyes danced over her face again she realized the slick trail of tears down the tan girls cheek and couldn't help the feeling of guilt that swarmed her. The feeling left her mouth dry and caused the nausea she had felt earlier to rear its ugly head again.

"Move", she gritted while pushing away the brunettes hand and letting her head dangle to the right as she dry heaved over the mess she already made earlier.

She felt a hand smooth her hair back into a pony tail before trailing down her neck causing the tiny hairs there to stand fully erect and slowly moving to her upper back where the hand drew large comforting circles. She could now hear the sounds of sobs, and again taste the retched salt and copper mixture she was hoping she would never have to encounter again.

"Shh. It's alright Heather, your going to be alright. Deep breaths; breath with me." Naya spoke as she moved Heathers right hand, the one that wasn't currently holding her weight up, to her chest letting it feel the rhythmatic breathing it was doing. Heather felt an arm gently wrap around her waist and pull her into the smaller girl's body. Her back resting against the tan girl's chest, she could feel the quick thuds through her back; however the rising and falling of the girl's chest was deep and slow. She soon felt the rocking motion her body was being taken through. Left, then right, left, then right, left, then right lulling her back to a state of understanding.

"Naya?" Her voice pitifully rang out.

"I got you Hemo, I got you." Heather could hear the tremble in Naya's voice, could hear the thick tears laced with ever word she uttered. Her mind was becoming less muggled, her thoughts being able to process more clearly than they had been earlier.

"Naya" she tried again this time sounding a little surer in her speech. She glanced her eyes up trying to meet the brown orbs of the girl holding her, only to be met with the fabric of her now red throw blanket that was gently pressed against her bleeding scalp. She wasn't sure when Naya placed it there but she realized it stopped the oozing blood from dribbling helpless down her face.

"What happened Heather?" From the tone in Naya's voice Heather wasn't sure if she was asking her that question or simply asking herself the question, voicing her thoughts out loud,

"Taylor mmmm fight mmm fellrg", anger flared through her when she realized she was still unable to portray what she wanted to say, she let out a frustrated grunt as she felt the arms that were encircled around her waist tense tighter, while Naya whispered comforting nothing in her ear about how she didn't have to try to explain now. But that was the problem she wanted to explain now she didn't want Naya sitting there helping her in eating curiosity of what happened. She pulled another gruff grunt out before attempting to clear her throat and approach her speaking problem again.

"Taylor and I got… in a fight, he gra… grabbed my arm and I… I fell." The words were still weak and disjointed in phrases, but the ecstatic feeling she felt knowing her state of muteness was passing.

"What?" She could hear the anger rising in Naya's voice, the booming volume of it brought back the dull thumping in her head causing a grimace and a whimper to wash over her.

"Oh Heather, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell in your ear. What did he do Heather?" She could see the brown orbs scan over her body, watching as her teeth clenched at the sight of her purpling cheek, and grinding at the sight of her ripped shirt sleeve. She didn't even realize at the time it had ripped, everything happened so fast and so many things swam in front of her vision.

"I'm… fine Nay…" she ushered out through her blood tinted lips.

"You are far from fine Heather! I am going to kill that boy when I see him next. I can promise you that!" her phrase followed by slews of Spanish that Heather never did learn to understand, she had enough problems processing the English language much less did she want to try to advance herself in another language completely. She is brought back from her Spanish endeavors when the now furious tan girl continues on in her speech.

"We have to get you to the hospital" she supplied while her hands tightened even more around the pale girls waist, ready to pull her up and whisk her to the car with the new found strength she possessed from her adrenaline ridden nerves.

"No!" Heather spoke the words with the most certainty and clarity she has been able to muster since her face first met the coffee table.

"Heather, are you crazy? You're practically bleeding out on your floor! This place looks like a scene straight out of Dexter… of course with less plastic, and I don't know many people that puke in that, and we are both dressed…"

"Nay", her nervous rambling halted by her name flowing from Heathers lips, she looks down to the ice blue eyes and she immediately issues an apologetic tilt of her head. The darker girl takes a calming breath before continuing.

"Seriously Hemo, your noggin is strong but not that strong." She states with a joking smirk to her luscious lips, trying to edge the tension off the situation they are in right now. Heather sighs letting her body slump into the warm body behind her succumbing to the fact that the smaller girl is correct. She is obviously in need of medical attention and while the pounding in her head has lessened it is still steady and acknowledging it's self constantly. The smaller girl obviously felt the extravagant dancer slump in her arms because she alarmingly tilts her head into Heathers field of vision to check on the blond in her arms to make sure she wasn't loosing consciousness or about to lose her stomach again.

"Is that a yes?" Naya whispers softly as if aware of the raging beats echoing in the pale girls brain and attempting to not rile them up anymore than they are. After a subtle almost non existing nod from the girl in her arms she slowly tries to stand with. However the height difference and the jelly feeling in Heathers limbs cause both girls to crumble back to the floor with the finesse of a line of dominos when the beginning domino of the chain is pushed over. The blond roars loudly in pain as the motion of falling and suddenly stopping jolts her brain around in her already weakened head. Naya tries to console the girl as she continuously whimpers in pain, unable to stop the fog from re entering her brain. She hears the tan girls silky voice ring out again, opening her blue eyes, separating heavy lids she glances up at the brunette to see that her words were not directed to her at all but to whom ever was on the other end of the tan girls cell phone that was now pressed tightly to her ear while she rambled urgently into the line. Words like "help", "Heather", "hurt", "apartment", and "Taylor" reached her ear whisking through her head she could guess that Naya was calling for re-enforcements seeing as the two were not able to get to their desired destination on their own.

"Di is coming to help us Heather, just hold on Sweetie" the voice shook Heather out of her almost unconscious state, ever since the harsh drop back down to her apartments hardwood floors she feels like she had moments after the initial impact. The room begins to swim again, her thoughts floating around like clouds to the stars she was seeing in her vision.

"Shh. It's ok. It's going to be alright" the voice stunned Heather; she wasn't expecting it to break through her elusive day dreams, that's when she realized the pitiful whimpers she was yelping. She tried to even her breathing and halt her pathetic sounds for Naya's sake but in doing so she just caused her eyelids to droop more and the fog in her skull to thicken. Her shoulders slump even further in while unconsciousness over takes her for a second time that night.


	3. Currents

**AN: I of course do not own any of the people. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story! I have the next two chapters already planned out so hopefully should be getting them both up before Sunday. **

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><p><strong><span>Currents<span>**

Chills pass through Heathers bones, spiraling down her thighs dancing through her calves before tickling her toes causing them to curl. The all to familiar pounding in her head was being suffocated by an icy substance pressed against her afflicting wound. She struggles timidly to open her eyes to figure out where she is. Her nimble fingers spread stretching themselves out like a cat on a summer day. One hands phalanges buzz over the fro of the rug under her. The shag grazing up the length of her fingers dancing the wedges in-between pointer and middle. She then dared to move her upper body but soon felt it trapped, trying to place the weight on her mid section she slowly cracked her eye lids. Keeping her eyes downcast waiting for them to focus, when spots of colors became pictures she realized a tan arm was the offending factor holding her still. Now that she focuses she can feel a heart beating against her back that isn't her own surviving organ; Turning her head to look behind her causes her vision to swim and her to let out a groan.

"Hey, don't move too much. You'll hurt yourself." The voice slams Heather back to reality like a speeding car meeting a tree. The last few hours flash before her eyes causing another groan for a completely different reason. However the smaller girl behind her didn't know that and she squeezed her arm tighter, pressing the damp rag back against Heathers head. The blond rotated her cranium again, slower this time as to avoid the petulant spinning that occurred when the motion was done to fast. Pounding in her head was still noticeable but was a dull thud compared to the previous battle. Her tongue darts out salivating her pale lips preparing to retry her speech now that her head wasn't fogged like an early spring morning.

"Naya", ecstatic that the voice albeit weak was clear she pressed on.

"Thank you for helping me. I don't know what happened. All so fast." Her last sentence becoming discomposed, her sentences draining the already exhausted blonde

"Shh. Its ok we can discuss it later… Do you feel like you can help me move you to the couch?" Naya's silky voice calmed her nerves while she thought seriously about her question. The blond did feel a little more stable in her stockings. With a nervous nod Naya began to pull her up into a standing position. Heather's legs kick out aimlessly trying to come in contact with the bare rug so she could help the brunette move her. Once the two made it into a full standing position blood rushed through Heathers veins heading straight fro her brain. Her mind screamed at her legs willing them to no longer prove pathetic and useless; however before the message was delivered the blondes legs locked. A gruff grunt escaped Naya's lips as she tried to maneuver their toppling tower towards the couch. Landing with a soft swish as the couches cushions caught them like an airbag would safely catch a stuntman flying from an heightens building.

"Wow", Heather breathed out. Due to her new position and more focused mind she was able to see the mess that was her apartment. Deep red stains marred her beige shag rug, her earlier episodes of vomiting were evident on the wood floors beside the ruffled rug, her coffee table crooked, knocked off balance by the force her face met it with it had blood dribbling off the side of it, a harsh reminder. Naya must of realized what the blonde was looking at as she cleared her throat.

"Don't worry we can clean it all up. Don't worry about that now." Naya's stern voice burst through her pity droned thoughts. Heather felt bad for the brunette, she couldn't imagine how wrecked and scared she would have felt if she had ran into Naya's apartment in this state.

"Sorry", she whispered her thoughts leaving her mouth before she could comprehend she even spoke. Apparently her head was fairing better and she was surrcuming back to her natural state.

"Hey", the smaller girl rand out with authority, she tilted her head into the blondes line of vision causing her chocolate hair to curtain her flawless face. She brought a dexterous finger under the blondes chin tilting ti up ever so lightly so their gazes could meet.

"You have nothing to apologize for, none of 'this'…" she annunciates 'this' while glaring around the room, pausing before finishing her sentence, "it's not you fault, Hemo. No one, especially you, deserves this", she finishes with down cast eyes.

"It was an accident", Heather blurts out, shes not sure why she has the urge to defend Taylor maybe because he had been the perfect boyfriend for so long it just felt wrong to dehumanize him for one backhand and a pull that just happened to cause her feet to splutter helpless sending her sprawling towards the ground, unfortunately meeting the coffee table before reaching her final destination. Though even though the end result was the same she could see in Taylors eyes the guilt he felt when his actions restricted in marring her gorgeous face.

"An accident?" The bite in Naya's voice caused Heather to flinch. She is not sure she has ever seen the smaller girl tremble in so much rage.

"An accident is bumping into a vase, not striking someone in the face with a fist" she grits out while lightly running dark fingers over the bruised flesh of Heathers cheek. Her gentle touch not matching the ferocious bite to her voice; "An accident isn't grabbing someone by the arm so hard they rip their sweatshirt", she continues while letting her fingers drop from the blondes face and run a single digit up the now ripped seams of the gray clad sweater. "An accident is not throwing someone down into a coffee table and fucking up their head!" She growls, Heather can tell that if Taylor were anywhere close he would be a dead man by the look in Naya's eyes, the harsh fidgets dancing through her fingers, and the curse words leaking and lacing themselves into her sentence.

"He didn't throw me Nay. I was just trying to get to the door and he pulled me off balance… I tripped." Heather spoke still defending her newly ex-lover.

"The point is Heather whether he grabbed, pushed, or pulled he touched you with enough force to send you flying to the ground", she spoke calmly this time, dropping her tone to a comforting level. Her brown orbs pierced blue ones while her tan fingers crossed paths with pale ones taking the light hands in her own and giving them a brave squeeze; Trying to portray emotions through a simple look and touch.

"Nay…" Heather began, but was interrupted by frantic knocking on the door. The sound flared up the dull thud in her head making its presence known again. Heather glances up questionably to the brunette eyes quirking in confusion before the conversation Naya had with someone on her cell phone pops into the blondes head. Naya gently stands helping place the blonde length wise on the leather sofa, their eyes never leaving each other as the smaller girl makes her way to the door releasing the heavy latches of the brass locks, swinging the thick mahogany door open to reveal a flustered looking blonde. Clad in her plaid pajama pants, old gray high school t-shirt, and short blonde hair half hazardly pulled into a pony tail, most of the blonde hair circled her face too short to reach into the rubber band. Heather watched the other blonde scan the room, becoming noticeably pale when she spotted the blood, and vomit littered over the usually pristine living area.

"Oh my God", the blonde whimpered, her green eyes swirling with concern and growing in diameter catching Heathers on the couch. The taller blonde concluded at that moment that she must look dreadful due to the fact the other blonde quickly bounded over to her, hand cupped over her mouth signaling her speechlessness on the situation.

"Dianna, thank you so much for coming, I didn't know who else to call you were the closest. I tried to move her to my car by myself but we weren't going to make it and I didn't want to call an ambulance and have those vultures with their cameras all outside her apartment." Naya finished in a huff, moving around the room quickly gathering things they would need for the ride, anxiousness waving off of her at the fact that they could start towards the hospital and start towards fixing Heather.

"Heather…" Dianna whispered her dainty hand drifting softly over the dancers bruised cheek, her thumb caressing above her good eyebrow lulling her back into a relaxed state. The dancer's eyes drifted closed as she leaned into Dianna's embrace, cracking her eyelids open she spotted the trail of tears drifting down the shorter blonds rosy cheeks.

"I'm fine", Heather whispered, hoping to cheer Dianna up, feeling bad for causing two of her best friends tears.

"We have to get going." Naya cut in, grabbing Dianna off the couch and going over intricate instructions on how the shorter girls were going to move the tall blonde to the car. Before the dancer could figure out what the girls plan was she was being pulled up, she attempted to lock her knees to prevent them from buckling and causing her legs to turn into useless limbs. The smaller girls took slow steps, both whispering encouragements into her ears, she focused on keeping her long legs moving with theirs repeating a mantra in her head of left, right, left, right. The sound of a car door made her glance up, a sense of pride pulled at her mouth causing it to turn into a small smirk at the fact that she made it to the vehicle albeit the smaller girls on either side held most of her weight. The brunette slowly eased her into the car, placing the rag against her head while they laid the girl down across the beige leather seats. Naya backs out closing the car door behind her, closing Heather into the dark confines of the back seat.


End file.
